


Anesthesia

by asculderlifeforme



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Cute, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, So Sweet It'll Rot Your Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 19:32:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13887657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asculderlifeforme/pseuds/asculderlifeforme
Summary: Mulder has appendicitis.





	Anesthesia

I'm sitting in the waiting room of the local hospital, reading some trash magazine article about Jennifer Anniston. A receptionist calls for a "Dana Mulder," and I don't bother correcting her, it would take to long to explain. She directs me down the hallway towards post-op recovery.

 

Mulder called me at 2AM, complaining of pain and nausea. He wasn't one to sincerely ask for help when he was sick or injured, so when I got this call I knew it was serious. I woke myself up by splashing cold water on my face, and got dressed. I let myself inside his apartment, to find him curled into the couch.

I immediately knelt at his side, my wrist at his forehead. He was scorching hot, sweating.

"Rate your pain out of 10."

"Uh, 6? 7? I don't know." He's shaking, his eyes were unfocused.

"Better or worse than when I shot you?"

"Worse, definitely worse. It's all over, but mostly here," he placed his palm over his lower right abdomen.

"When was your last bowel movement?"

"Geez, Scully, that's a little personal, don't ya think?" He tried to smirk at me, but the effect is ruined by the look in his eyes.

"I'm a doctor, remember? I think you have appendicitis. Have you been able to pass gas or defecate in the last 24 hours?"

"No, actually. I'm nauseous, too, so I haven't eaten."

"Alright, let's go. We're going to the hospital."

He grunted, and after a few minutes of gathering some things, we made it to the car.

 

When I part the curtain to see him, there's a nurse performing an assessment on him. I quietly let her finish, and she fills me in on the details.

"His appendix was ruptured, leaking into the abdominal space. The surgeon cleaned him out and removed it successfully, a very textbook case. He's still sleepy, a little loopy from the anesthetics. Once he wakes up fully, the doc will be in to clear him to go home. Any questions?"

"No, thank you. I'll let him rest."

 

The nurse leaves, and I take a seat next to the stretcher. After about ten minutes, Mulder stirs. His eyes fall on me.

"Whoa. Who are  _you_?" His voice is deep and gravelly, and his eyes are sleepy yet fixated on my face.

"I'm Dana, your partner, remember?"

"My partner? You're my partner? Wow. You're like, super beautiful. I mean, they let me work with you? You're gorgeous!"

I let out a laugh. He sounds drunk, voice slow and slurred. His compliments make me blush a little.

"Yes, we work together. You're in the hospital."

"My 'pendix?"

"Yes, your appendix was taken out. You were very sick."

"Okay." His eyes slip closed.

Twenty minutes later, we repeat this process.

"You're my partner? We work together? You're too hot to work at the FBI. I mean, just look at you. How do I keep my hands to myself?"

An hour later, again. Though he's less drunk-sounding but just as sleepy and gravelly.

"We work together? Every day? Wow. I'm one lucky son of a bitch to work with someone so smoking hot. Damn! Look at you, hot mama!" He shouts this last part, fist in the air.

I shush him, laughing. God, I wish I had a tape recorder. This is hilarious. 

About thirty minutes later, he wakes again. 

"Scully? I'm so glad you're my best friend. I'm so glad I get to see you all the time. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you..." I get a thank you every thirty seconds or so until the doctor comes in.

 

"Well, I hear this patient is in good hands," the doctor says, shaking my hand. "I'm Dr. Richard Pierce."

I chuckle, "Hi, I'm Dr. Dana Scully. Do you think he's ready to go home?" 

"I would say so. His last vitals look good, he's probably got his sea legs about now, too. All's we need is to make sure he can void, then he can go home. You'll be there to observe him, I assume?"

"Yes, I'll be driving him, and I'll be there to make sure he doesn't have any reactions or anything."

"Excellent. I'll get the nurse to get him into the bathroom. It was nice meeting you, Dr. Scully."

 

Once Mulder is discharged, we stop to pick up his pain meds and antibiotics. He sleeps through the whole car ride. I think about getting him to climb the three flights of stairs to his apartment, versus the four steps to mine. My apartment it is.

I get him set up in my bed, with the pain killers and plenty of water. He's in the black tee and cotton pants he was in last night, and damn if he doesn't look good in my bed. I need to stop thinking about it, but it's difficult to course-correct my line of thought when he pulls me into the bed next to him. He curls next to me, and I sit there, with his head on my stomach, combing his hair with my fingers. It's soft, thick, and feels like silk in my hand. He sighs contentedly.

"I love you, Scully. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

He falls asleep, with a few more thanks on his lips. 

I love you, too, Mulder. More than you know. 

 

 


End file.
